


Countdown

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work, True Blood
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 20:24:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11134095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ethan scratched absently at the black band on his wrist. The skin underneath had become increasingly irritated in the last week or so. He had tried convincing himself that it was just a rash. It shouldn’t have been so hard to believe, he never took the thing off; not even to shower. But Ethan knew what the itch meant and couldn’t fool himself. He would meet his soulmate soon. He was running out of time.





	Countdown

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Soulmate AU where a clock counted down to the moment you met your soulmate  
> Source: http://www.polyvore.com/round_02/set?context_id=212139&context_type=group&id=222775781  
> Story Set: http://www.polyvore.com/tbf_round_countdown/set?id=222824548

Ethan scratched absently at the black band on his wrist. The skin underneath had become increasingly irritated in the last week or so. He had tried convincing himself that it was just a rash. It shouldn’t have been so hard to believe, he never took the thing off; not even to shower. But Ethan knew what the itch meant and couldn’t fool himself. He would meet his soulmate soon. _He was running out of time._

 

According to popular opinion, Ethan should be possessed by a nauseating combination of joy and nerves in this very moment. All he felt was dread, settling heavy in his stomach. He smirked ruefully, _at least I’ve got the nauseas part down._ When he thought about his clock running out, instead of picturing a scene from a romantic movie, he saw the faded 00:00:00:00 soulmark on his father’s wrist as he prepared to deliver a blow for some imagined offense. The memory was accompanied by the smell of cheap alcohol and stale cigarettes. _Not exactly the stuff of romance_. A soulmate didn’t have to be kind or patient. They came as they were, with all of their flaws. Ethan shuddered at the thought of being bound to someone that he didn’t know in the slightest.

 

A tap on his shoulder forced Ethan out of his mental spiral. His partner, Roman LeRoux, stood behind him smiling sympathetically. Ethan hadn’t told him about the countdown, but he was a good cop and had almost certainly come to the conclusion on his own. While he hadn’t attempted to broach the subject in conversation, he had been doing nice things for his partner all week. Ethan was going to have to loosen his belt a notch if Roman kept on bringing him breakfast sandwiches with extra bacon from Eddie’s.

 

Roman had changed out of his uniform and was now wearing a short sleeved t-shirt. The 00:00:00:00 soulmark on his wrist was on clear display. He had met his soulmate nearly three years ago and had married her a week later. After a few drinks one evening, Ethan had asked him why he hadn’t waited a bit longer. Roman had shrugged and smiled the way he always did when talked about his beloved Abby, _I don’t know if I can put it to words, man. I just saw her and it’s all I could think about. It was like… like manifest destiny or something like that, you know? I had to do it._

 

“Hey, kid,” Roman sat down on the corner of their shared desk and gestured to the file spread open underneath Ethan’s hands, “you planning on leaving work anytime soon?”

 

Ethan looked down at pictures of the murdered girls, each one of them drained of blood, and lied, “Yeah, I was going to change in 5.”

 

His partner chuckled quietly, “you’re a terrible liar. You know that right, Ethan?”

 

“So you keep on telling me,” he began to carefully place the pictures back into the folder. He knew that Roman wouldn’t leave until he was sure Ethan was going to follow suit. He might have his doubts about the whole soulmate thing, but Abby and Roman were very much in love. He didn’t want to be the reason Roman was home late and cause any trouble between them.

 

Roman watched him as he slipped the file back into his desk and sighed, “you know that’s not your case to work.”

 

“I’m not - ” Roman raised an eyebrow and Ethan corrected his course, “I know, I know, I’m a terrible liar and I _am_ working the case, but only because Marten and Hansen are screwing it up.”

 

“They did figure out that it was a vamp,” his partner reminded him judiciously.

 

“Their throats were ripped out and they were drained of blood. Figuring out that it was a vampire isn’t exactly a stroke of genius. Plus, knowing it was a vampire doesn’t actually help us. We need to know which _one_ is doing it and they’re both cowards who are too afraid to go ask the sheriff of area 5 about it - ”

 

Roman halted his tirade with a gentle hand on his shoulder, “You need to cool off kid. Promise me that you’re going straight home after you change. No more of this nonsense.”

 

Ethan nodded, not trusting himself to deliver a verbal lie convincingly. His partner rolled his eyes, but appeared mostly pacified. He left with a customary reminder to stay safe: _Abby’s expecting you for dinner on Thursday and if you don’t make it because you’re dead or something like that, it will hurt her feelings. So you better be safe while you pull whatever stupid stunt you’re ramping up to do._

 

Ethan waited until Roman was out the door before putting the address for _Fangtasia_ into his phone. He could make it there in just under a half an hour. The skin underneath the band grew hotter. He ignored it and tucked the wooden stake he’d made into the inside pocket of his jacket. It never hurt to be prepared.

 

**00:00:00:00**

 

 

When a human becomes vampire, their soulmark freezes; a permanent reminder of the space between the time of their first death and time they would have been united with their soulmates. When Godric had come across Eric, fatally wounded and resting on his own funeral pyre, he’d had another two years to wait. A fierce viking warrior, Eric had never expected to live meet his soulmate, whoever he or she was. He was not grieved to have been robbed of the experience.

 

Godric’s mark was frozen with no time left. In their hundreds of years together, his maker had only spoken of her once and kept her name to himself. _It’s all I have left of her. I’d sooner meet the sun than give it away._ They’d met as children and were to be married as soon as they came of age. She was killed during a raid by a rival clan. He compared the pain of losing her to a sudden and violent emptiness that demanded to be filled. Centuries of bloodshed and mayhem had done little satisfy the hunger. The one modicum of peace that Eric had regarding the death of his maker was that Godric might be with _her_ now. He might finally be without the emptiness that had ultimately driven him to his end.

 

Until one fateful day 25 years ago, Eric’s mark had been frozen. The faded norse runes stretched across the skin of his left wrist were nothing more than a reminder that the man or woman who would have been his soulmate had died many centuries ago. Then he’d awoken to a burning sensation where his mark was. Before his eyes, the mark darkened and the runes transformed into modern numerals. Then they began to count backwards.

 

While a vampire “acquiring” a second soulmate wasn’t an unheard of phenomenon, it was rare. Not only that, but it was a disadvantage. Being bound to a human soulmate was seen as a weakness. To be human was to be fragile. Eric had no desire to have his fate tied to something so breakable, but it seemed that the gods, if they were to be believed, hadn’t taken this into account.

 

Fortunately, it was common for vampires to cover their soulmark. It was a leftover practice from when their existence was a secret from the general human populace. A frozen soulmark was one of the primary indicators, along with the fangs and bloodthirst, of vampirism. The fact that his soulmark had thawed was Eric’s most closely guarded secret. Only his progeny, Pam, knew about it and she had a great enough sense of self preservation to never speak of it.

 

Pam caught a glimpse of mark years ago during a moment of carelessness that Eric had yet to forgive himself for. She had not seen it since, but there was no doubt in his mind that she was carrying on her own private countdown. She was watching him closely, from across the dance floor, as she tended bar. It would happen tonight and she knew it.

 

The idea that he would find his soulmate in _Fangtasia_ , was abhorrent. While he owned the establishment, he held very little, if any, esteem for the clientele. The vampires who came here were an embarrassment to their own kind, dressing as vampiric caricatures clad in black leather, dark lipstick, thick eyeliner, and sharp jewelry. Eric wasn’t sure who was worse, them or the vampire groupies who followed after them in droves. The prospect of one these sniveling blood sacks being the one he was supposed to love unconditionally had placed him in a foul mood.  He flung the last human who tried to approach him clear across the room. His friends had carried him out, probably on their way to the local E.R.

 

Eric cast his gaze back over to the bar and saw Pam speaking with a young man. His hair was cut neatly and he was wearing a leather jacket; the normal kind, without any studs or extra buckles. Eric smirked, somewhat intrigued by the stranger. Perhaps he could have some fun before he was hitched to some miserable soul. He was showing her some pictures. Pam smiled demurely and shrugged in answer to one of his questions. She pointed in Eric’s direction and the man turned to follow her gesture. When his eyes met Eric’s, his soulmark flared. He tore the leather cuff off of his wrist to confirm what he knew to be true. It read 00:00:00:00.

 

**00:00:00:00**

 

While the word “classy” could never be used to describe _Fangtasia_ , it was far from the seediest joint that Ethan had ever set foot in. On the surface, it presented as a tourist trap. Patrons could leave wearing a _Fangtasia_ t-shirt after having looked upon, or perhaps, even touched a real live vampire. There was something darker here though, humming just underneath the surface. This bar was owned by none other the sheriff of Louisiana's area 5, Eric Northman. Ethan knew better than to be lulled into a false sense of security.

 

Ethan went to the bar first. He knew that Eric wouldn’t be tending bar, but he knew enough of vampire etiquette to know that it was a bad idea approach the sheriff directly. Perhaps the bartender could arrange an audience with him and at least explain the proper channels through which he could secure one himself. The bartender made her way over to him almost immediately, ignoring several customers who were attempting to get her attention. She leaned across the bar, the action exaggerating her cleavage even more than the tight leather corset she was wearing already did. _Thank god I’m gay or that would be really distracting,_ he thought, moving his gaze back up to her face.

 

As if reading his thoughts, she leaned back a bit, “Haven’t seen you around here before. What can I do for you, sugar?”   

 

He swallowed and mustered every bit of courage he had, these girls deserved justice and he would get it for them, “I’m here to speak to the sheriff of area 5.”

 

“Oh, are you now?” She asked, her lips quirking upwards into an amused smirk, “And what do you need to speak to him about?”

 

Ethan pulled the pictures of the murdered girls out of his jacket pocket, and slid them across the bar, “These girls have all been murdered in the past few weeks. I need to know if he knows anything about it. Do you?”

 

The bartender shrugged, seemingly unaffected by the gruesome crime scene photos, “Afraid I can’t say anything either way.”

 

Ethan was about to challenge her flippant response when she spoke again, “If you want to ask Eric about it he’s over there. Fair warning though, he’s in _quite_ the mood tonight.”

 

Ethan turned towards the dance floor, following the bartender’s pointing finger, and laid eyes on Eric Northman for the first time. There was a sudden flare of pain that originated under his soul mark and traveled up his arm and to the center of his chest. _No, no, no, no, no. Not now. It can’t happen now._

 

Before he could run from the bar, which he very much wanted to do, his shoulders were grasped in a crushing grip and he found himself in the bar’s office in the blink of an eye. Ethan had heard tales of the vampires’ speed, but he had never experienced it first hand. Eric released his grip on him momentarily to slam the door shut. Half a second later, Ethan was pinned against the wall by the sheriff of Louisiana’s area 5, Eric Northman. He was chest to chest with his soulmate and his heart was beating hard enough to bust out of his rib cage for all of the wrong reasons.

 

Eric grabbed his left wrist and tore off the band like it was made of tissue paper. The clock read 00:00:00:00. He ran his thumb gently over the soulmark and Ethan shivered, not because he was afraid, but because he almost liked the sensation. Scratch that, he definitely liked it. Half of his mind railed against this sentiment and desired to move away from the vampire, while the other half wanted nothing more than to be closer.

 

“It’s you then,” Eric said softly, continuing his thorough examination of his soulmate’s wrist. He looked and sounded just as conflicted as he felt.

 

“Yeah,” Ethan responded, swallowing thickly, “Um...what do we do now?”

 

“Well,” Eric said, releasing his wrist and taking half a step backwards, “there’s a 24 hour chapel not too far from here…”

 

Ethan almost booked it for the door at that, but then he saw Eric’s smirk. He was joking. _I met him less than 5 minutes ago and he’s already messing with me._

 

“Maybe you should ask me what my name is before you propose,” he suggested, feeling a bit bolder.

 

“Details,” the vampire shrugged and reached out a hand to cup his cheek, “we could figure that sort of thing out on the ride over.”

 

Ethan fought and promptly lost the battle to resist the urge to lean into the touch, “There’s also a 24 hour pancake place not far here...you could buy me dinner instead?”

 

Eric closed the distance between them, pressing Etan back into the wall, “Is that something you would like?”

 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” they were close enough to share breath, “but it is.”

 

“You better tell me your name then.”

 

“Ethan.”

 

“Ethan,” Eric said his name with a touch of reverence and he was sure that he was going to kiss him in that moment, but the vampire pulled back at the last second, “Can we take your car?”

 

Dazed from almost-kiss, Ethan didn’t immediately understand the question, “What?”

 

“Your car,” Eric’s grin somehow managed to be equal parts endearing and predatory, “can we take it to the pancake place?”

 

“Oh,” Ethan blushed and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, “of course.”

It was then that Eric stole a kiss. It wasn’t sweet or perfect (Ethan somehow already knew that Eric was neither of these things), but it was good. And that was enough.


End file.
